Review: Mariah Carey misses the mark in Grand Prairie

GRAND PRAIRIE -- If you're going to be a diva, have the total package.

If that's not a saying shared among the world's elite vocal performers, it should be. And one of the first singers who should heed it is Mariah Carey, the five octave R&B-pop princess turned hip-hop moll and occasional actress. Her 95-minute performance Thursday night at Grand Prairie's Nokia Theatre struggled to justify the nearly hour-long delay from the reported start time (for what it's worth, she apologized -- vaguely -- and alluded to nearly not coming out at all) and suffered from her tendency to ramble between songs -- when she wasn't disappearing offstage for minutes at a time for costume changes, that is.

Endearing? Perhaps, but a little charming chatter goes a long way.

Amid plugs for her forthcoming remix album, Angels Advocate, which shakes up tracks from last year's Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel, and an unreleased line of champagne, Angel Rose (hmm, a theme?), Carey dabbed herself dry with tissue, allowed her hair and make-up team to perform an onstage touch-up and cooed at the fans straining to reach across the barrier down front.

Taken together, it created a maddening, stop-start evening that made one wonder if all of Carey's snide cracks about the media's tendency to characterize her as a diva were actually defensive. ("You need the haters sometimes," she told the mostly full room.) Does she think she's in a class with the likes of, say, Tina Turner or Barbra Streisand, legends who've probably never done anything onstage as peculiar as apologizing for a sip of bubbly? Or is the whole thing a put-on, a sly commentary on showbiz's puffed-up tendencies?

Either way, once the distractions ceased, Carey also sang. Rather than simply mime along to a backing track and amp up the splashy choreography, Carey really, truly did sing -- she hardly moved at all during the often vocally challenging numbers, whether it was a vintage track (Make It Happen) or something more recent (It's Like That).

The surprisingly tasteful stage was nevertheless decked out with her trio of back-up singers (now we know what happened to Trey Lorenz after people stopped requesting that cover of I'll Be There), four-piece band and nine dancers.

Twenty years after her debut, Carey continues to exude an almost coquettish sexuality, mingled with a street-wise sensibility and pious songbird tendencies. She didn't shy away from indulging in the much-vaunted whistle register; Carey also didn't seem to notice the occasionally sloppy dance routines transpiring around her (or the blatant "Pink du Soleil" swipe during Angels Cry).

Maybe the tour, as it nears the finish line (only four shows left!), is showing signs of fatigue. Particularly during the first few songs, Carey seemed a bit adrift. She pulled together as the night wore on, emerging for a valedictory version of her signature hit Hero. It seems even divas, be they real or pretend, can have an off night.